Desert Window

On her debut album, Lucy Gooch stays true to her electronic foundations, while incorporating more acoustic instrumentation and digging deeper into her folk roots through songwriting. But at the heart of Lucy’s music is her rapturous vocal, with which she has experimented more than ever over the course of her first full-length.Many of the pieces on ‘Desert Window’ started out as vocal improvisations from which she pulled a narrative. Taking cues from the incantatory chanting found in middle English poetry such as ‘The Names of the Hare’, as well as the prescient imagery in contemporary works like ‘The Hearing Trumpet’ by Leonora Carrington (1974). “To a larger extent, this became an experiment in placing my voice in a more narrative way, while remaining oblique,” Gooch explains.While her previous work could be compared to drawn-out landscapes punctuated with moments of romance and radiance, this album feels grounded in materiality and the everyday. Gooch’s voice is at times strident, while elsewhere restrained and broken. “I lost connection to my voice and then had to rediscover it, which was exhilarating. There were these bursts of energy where I’d be messing around and occasionally stumble upon something”. There are hushed melodies and exhausted squalls, creating dissonance and space.The result is an atmospheric balance between Kate Bush and Cocteau Twins harmonies, Vangelis major chords, and a juxtaposition of folk ambience reminiscent of the offset madrigals of The Third Ear Band and Italian cult film composers Goblin. It is a complex and elegant album, an all-consuming series of songs that reach into jazz, electronica and classical song construction.